


When Krolia Came Into My Life

by Callaeidae3



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blade of Marmora Krolia (Voltron), F/M, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Language Barrier, Shiro's Family (Voltron) - Freeform, pre-Episode: s01 e01 The Rise of Voltron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-05-02 22:23:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14554809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callaeidae3/pseuds/Callaeidae3
Summary: Kevin Kogane works as a general technician at the Galaxy Garrison. In his many hours of isolation and time to himself, he builds a shack in the desert out of scrapped materials from the Garrison and, upon its near-completion, moves into it.His new home is quickly discovered by his inquisitive fellow technician, Atsushi Shirogane. The two, both needing space in their separate circumstances in life, find mutual understanding in each other's companionship and soon find themselves friends. They get more space than they bargain for, however, when they witness an alien space craft crash into the canyons and Kevin's heart is captured by the ship's pilot - and her heart by him.





	1. A House, a Home and an Unexpected Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> The action/more-interesting stuff starts from Chapter 2, so skip ahead to there if you find yourself a little disinterested and just want to kick into the Keith's Dad-Krolia interaction storyline.
> 
> This fic differs a little in genre from my other fanfiction stories ('Your Extraction Mission Became Mine' and the 'Under the Radar' series). It focuses on interpersonal relationships and bridging cultural language barriers, with a bit of action/drama thrown in after Krolia's arrival. I'm actually terrible at writing social conversations, and so the beginning of this fic has proved to be harder to write (and therefore perhaps a little less interesting to read) than I thought/hoped it would be. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Solitude was not always Kevin’s preferred choice of lifestyle, but after accepting his job as a general technician at the Galaxy Garrison three years ago, it simply became the norm.

He doesn’t mind the time to himself. He knows how socially awkward he is, so it doesn’t bother him too much that he doesn’t interact with the other men or the two ladies in his line of work. As it is, he likes to keep to himself. But eventually, it gets to the point that even he has to admit how lonely he is.

He isn’t a specialist. Perhaps that’s what sets him apart from the other technicians. While everyone else employed by the Garrison is distinguished in some way, Kevin’s title has _nothing_ distinguishing about it besides the fact that his rank and status is the lowest among all the people here. He isn’t even on par with the janitor, since Mr. Fredrick also deals with managing the complex’s security. Kevin might as well be called a technician’s assistant if he didn’t work on his own.

His job does have interesting perks. Kevin managed to score, over a period of two and a half years, enough scrapped building supplies from Carpentry to make his own little fort in the desert. Initially it had merely been a project to side-track him from his boredom after work. It had turned out to be something much greater.

He’d started by carrying the salvaged materials out into the desert and storing them in a sheltered outcropping of rocks near the canyons. For that he’d lent a four-wheel drive and a trailer from a mechanic. When it came to constructing the fort, his own skill and toolset came into hand. The fort became a shack, and just in the last few weeks, the shack had become a house.

Kevin lives there now.

Since his job is only part time, he doesn’t receive the same benefit of being able to reside at the Garrison like most of the specialists do. The ones who have that privilege and also have a family, they’re granted living quarters in the Garrison’s housing complex. Kevin used to rent a small place a short distance away. Living alone meant that even without a full-time job, his income was sufficient. But ever since the change in landlords pushed the price of rent up, having enough money to buy decent groceries and pay the power bill became a challenge. Fortunately for him, by that stage his shack was all but finished, and so he packed his bags – the only one he had – and moved out of town into no man’s land.

Power wasn’t a major problem at first. Fresh water he topped up from the taps at the Garrison and any meals that needed cooking he made in the Garrison worker’s kitchen to take home and eat cold later. He made a sort of bushman’s long-drop in the woods nearby with what leftover timber and steel sheets he had.

But soon the silence, the cold and the darkness of the desert after sunset kept him awake at night. If the loneliness wasn’t already suffocating enough, the dead of night grew somewhat unbearable. It wasn’t long before he asked an electrician for some old, out-of-date yet still functioning solar panel models. Mr. Jefferson still hadn’t gotten around to recycling them after the Garrison removed them for a newer model, so he happily gave them to Kevin without charge.

Second-hand solar panels and generator installed, the shack had power. A single light bulb in the room is all that is necessary. That alone brought a massive amount of relief to Kevin. The nights weren’t so long, now. They were bearable. To save on energy, he rarely used the small electrical heater he’d brought over from town. Blankets did the trick, mostly.

It was only after he’d installed the old radio Jefferson had offered him and he had music playing softly throughout the evenings that this little house Kevin had built actually began to feel like a home. He could also make himself a hot tea at night and sit outside, watching the stars.

He wonders what it’s like out there. He’s had a go on one of the simulator’s before, only because he had to fix it, mind. It was tricky, that flight simulation. He’d hate to think how nerve-wracking actually landing a spacecraft would actually be.

Kevin sighs. It had been his dream, once. If not a pilot, an astronaut. Then he’d failed school and realised that dream apparently wasn’t for him after all. Maybe if he’d had the brains for the challenging stuff…

Technicians don’t get to go to space. 

 

Kevin comes home one afternoon in autumn – not that this region has seasons – to find someone waiting for him. His first thought, as he rides his rusty old sand bike closer and closer to the figure standing on the porch, is that one of the Commanders or Generals has discovered his finished project and aren’t all that pleased about it. 

 _Wouldn’t be surprising,_  Kevin thinks,  _considering I did build it out of Garrison property, used or otherwise._

But it isn’t any superior officer as he’d dreaded. The man waiting for him wears the same technician’s uniform as he does.

Atsushi Shirogane. He’s the only other general technician at the Garrison.

Kevin slows his sand bike down as he approaches the shack. He parks at the side of the building, pulling up beside a black bike already parked there. He shuts off the engine.

“Shirogane,” he says, dismounting. Kevin removes his helmet, regarding his workmate warily. “Can I help you with something?”

That isn’t the question actually running through his mind. 

_How the heck did you find this place?_

Shirogane steps down off the porch to greet him. “Kogane.”

With a raised eyebrow, Kevin walks over to him. “Is something the matter?”

The other man smiles, though not unkindly. “I noticed you came out to the desert often,” he says. “I was curious to know what interested you so much.”

“What am I interested in? The sand, of course,” Kevin retorts. “Also the wind and the quiet and the lack of people.”

The Japanese man inclines his head. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Oh, alright then.”

They stand where they are in awkward silence for a good few minutes, listening to the shifting of sand that Kevin finds so interesting. Five minutes pass before Kevin realises that Shirogane has no intention of leaving anytime soon.

With a sigh, he brushes past Shirogane and plonks himself down on the porch. He places his helmet down next to him. While Kevin searches his for which pocket of his workpants he’d put his lighter in, Shirogane sits down cross-legged beside him.

Kevin glances at him, somewhat irritated by the man’s lack of explaining his reasons for stalking him. Perhaps he’d been followed on the way back from work once, although Kevin is perplexed as to why general technician (who works mostly in mechanics and electronics) Atsushi Shirogane would bother chasing him into the desert.

At any rate, he’s here now. Might as well enjoy the company.

They’d never really talked before. Kevin doesn’t converse with anyone these days. The only way he’d managed to stop his voice becoming hoarse from lack of use was by singing along to the songs on the radio in the evenings. All he knew of Atsushi was that he lived in the family quarters with his wife and young boy. Kevin had never asked but guesses that, like himself, Atsushi is also in his early thirties.

Kevin decides to try to bridge the awkward silence between them.

“Want a ciggy?” Kevin asks, pulling a box of cigarettes and a lighter from the correct trouser pocket.

Shirogane considers a moment. “Oh, yeah. Why not?”

Neither of them speak for the next while. Both of them are content to sit quietly and savour the taste and temporary relief of the tobacco. Smoking isn’t permitted on Garrison grounds and Kevin’s small income doesn’t give him much spare cash – enjoying a cigarette is only a very occasional treat.

“Mind telling my why you’re here?” Kevin asks eventually.

Shirogane gazes out at the horizon, in the direction of the canyons. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Kevin scowls. This guy is sharp. He probably can’t fool Shirogane with a lie, so that’s out of the question. Most likely anything he says to try to redirect the topic of conversation off himself will just come circling back around anyway.

 _May as well go with it_.

“I needed space,” Kevin mutters.

He expects Shirogane’s response to be an indifferent _‘why?_ ’ but Shirogane only chuckles. Kevin stares at his workmate in confusion.

Shirogane meets him with a steady stare, patient and wise beyond his years. “I understand.”

Kevin is sure he notices a subtle sadness cross the man’s face then. The light in his eyes isn’t as bright as his gentle smile. Shirogane seems to recognise the question forming in Kevin’s expression.

“My wife,” Shirogane explains, “is having trouble adjusting to American lifestyle. We moved over here from Japan last year, as you may know. We lived in Osaka, therefore the idea of living among foreigners was not too overwhelming for her. I try to support her and our son as much as possible, but it’s difficult. I have community at the Garrison and our son, Takashi, has community at his new elementary school, but Hanako has yet to find a community for herself. She does not feel like she belongs anywhere. She is lonely, but she does not say.” He inhales some smoke, slowly exhaling it like a long sigh. “ _Uchi no funiki ha chotto…._ uh, sorry. The atmosphere of our house is somewhat…tense.”

Kevin is unable to hide his surprise. Shirogane, of all people he’s worked alongside at the Garrison, seems to be the calmest person around. Judging by everything Shirogane just said, Kevin realises he’s been wrongly mistaken. This guy’s screaming on the inside. It’s probably also the first time the man’s been able to get it all off his chest, too.

“So you needed some space too, huh?”

With a forced smile, Shirogane shrugs. “Yeah, and it seemed like you needed company.”

Kevin looks away. His workmate has noticed how isolated he is. He’s been found out, but it is the truth. He does need company. More than he realises, he _wants_ company.

All of a sudden the rude intrusion of his desert hut is more so an unexpected, welcome arrival. Kevin isn’t aware, though, that Shirogane’s unexpected arrival isn’t going to be the only one coming his way today.

 

The two men sit on the porch together long after the flame on their cigarettes extinguishes. They listen to the wind picking up and the sand shifting and swirling around them. The wooden walls of the shack start creaking as the heat of day leaves them. They talk a little more. Stars emerge with the fading of dusk, revealing themselves intermittently between the clouds.

Kevin’s spaced out when he hears a muttering of Japanese. Offering no translation, Shirogane instead points to the sky in disbelief. Kevin follows the general direction in which he’s pointing - a bright star flickering with an amber light.

_What’s so great about that star?_

Kevin waits for Shirogane to explain. He doesn’t. Kevin suppresses his annoyance and squints harder at the sky.

The star, it’s getting bigger. It doesn’t appear to be blowing up in the thermosphere, so it can’t be a meteor. It comes closer and closer. The amber glow surrounding it comes into focus. It’s on fire.

A  _ship?!_

“That is  _not_ a star!” Kevin shouts. He stands up abruptly.

Shirogane slowly rises to his feet. They watch, astonished, as the ship plummets through the atmosphere, spinning and burning while the pilot apparently tries to correct the ship’s orientation for a lesser impact. With a streak of red, the ship crashes into the canyons with an echoing yet muffled explosion.

Shirogane’s eyes are wide. “That ship is _not_ one of ours…”

Tonight, as it turns out, they got more space than they bargained for.


	2. The Blade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing social conversations is not my forte. I apologise if Kogane and Shirogane's conversation sounds awkward - I mean, to some degree it's meant to be, considering that they only formed a friendship a few hours ago and Kevin doesn't really socialise - but yeah, conversations aren't really my thing.

Their curiosity is overtaken by a sense of urgency. Shirogane’s already rounding the shack. Kevin’s puzzled as to why on earth he’s going around the back and so he follows him.

There’s a _hovercraft_ parked around the back.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me…”

“Take the black sand bike and find the ship,” Shirogane says, already clambering onto the hovercraft. He catches sight of Kevin’s awed expression and tilts his head. “What?”

“Uh, where did you get that?”

“I built it,” he says, grinning.

Kevin shakes his head. He’s seen this guy’s designs scribbled in rough sketches around the Garrison workplace from time to time, but never this. He feels eagerness bubbling up inside of him. How much he’d love to buy one of those when they came to the market, if he had enough money….

He’s distracted from his admiring the mechanical art in front of him by a distant whirring of alarms. Kevin glances out in the direction of the Garrison and spies a cluster of small lights pointing towards them.  Garrison four-wheel drive vehicles, headed for the ship.

“Come on,” Shirogane says. The urgency is back in his voice. “Take my bike over there and I’ll buy you some time.”

Kevin nods, takes a step back and then stops, frowning. “Wait, maybe we shouldn’t.”

Shirogane smirks. “Oh, Kogane. Where is your sense of adventure?”

“Mate. If we’re caught, we’re screwed.”

“If _you’re_ caught. I’ll go distract them.”

“And say you were simply out enjoying a night time ride on your new hovercraft when you saw the ship crash? Say it went over _there,_ ” he says, pointing in the opposite direction to where the craft impacted, “and make them believe you?”

Shirogane nods. “Yeah. That is my intention. Is there a problem?”

 _He’s serious_ , Kevin realises. _We’re seriously going to do this?_

“Shirogane, this is insane. There could be aliens. Aliens! And you’re telling me to go alone?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Atsushi frowns, his expression suddenly sombre. “I…in Japanese, the colloquial term for a foreigner can also be translated as alien. I know what it feels like to be alien. Unable to speak the language, stuck in a foreign environment with foreign-looking people who have a totally different culture.” He glances out in the direction of the canyons where a thin plume of smoke is rising. “I don’t think that ship has anyone else besides the pilot.”

“You’re sure?”

The grin’s back on his face. “No. How about you go and find out for me?”

Kevin groans. “Even if I take your sand bike, the Garrison’s vehicles have more tread. They’ll easily make it there first.”

“Why do you think I’m going to distract them? I’ll give you enough time to find the ship. Now, go!”

Shirogane flips a switch and the propellers of the hovercraft whir to life. It takes about a minute of warming up before the craft is off the ground and hovering, then he’s off, zipping away back towards the Garrison.

In that time Kevin doubles back to the bikes, snatches up his own helmet from the porch and a head torch from inside the house on his way and heads for the black sand bike. It’s in much better condition than his own – it actually _looks_ like it’s not about to fall apart any second. Kevin stuffs the head torch in his pocket, fits his helmet on over his head and jumps on the bike. The keys are still with the bike. Kevin turns on the engine, walks the bike out from between the shack and his own bike and then he’s hurtling off towards the crash site.

 

He mutters to himself as he rides the bike over the dunes, too distracted by the apprehension churning in his stomach to fully appreciate how smooth the ride is compared his rusty old bike. Kevin expects an ambush. A totalled ship. A dead pilot and the rest of the crew not faring much better. He's not looking forward to laying eyes on the carnage, but Shirogane's right - if there are any survivors, they should at least be treated alright. If the Garrison reach them first, the aliens' first impression of Earth and its inhabitants isn't likely to be a pleasant one.

The plume of smoke is all but gone by the time Kevin reaches the crash site. The caverns have many twists and turns, and in the darkness the entire chasm looks like it could’ve been carved out by the ship.

He finds it at the end of a snaking trail of shrapnel and debri and combed sand. The ship’s come to rest on the slopes of sand and rock that separate the canyons from the desert plains. Fortunately it’s not close enough to be in danger of toppling over the edge and plummeting to the mercy of the rocks below.

 _Skilled pilot,_ Kevin marvels.

Kevin removes his helmet, setting it down on the sand beside the bike. He takes his head-torch from his pocket and puts it on. It gives him only a limited amount of light to scan the area and the moon has only just peeked above the horizon, so he decides to stay out in the open. He inches closer to the craft, calling out a couple of times to alert the pilot and anyone else inside of his presence. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t receive any answer.

The ship – most _definitely_ an alien craft – isn’t in good nick. One wing is bent backwards, a panel ripped off from which the last of the smoke is escaping. But the cockpit appears to be in slightly better condition than the rest of it. The windscreen is shattered and a mess of burnt wires hang out of the dashboard, but…there’s no pilot inside.

_Maybe they were thrown?_

He senses rather than hears movement behind him. Something cold presses against his throat.

Kevin freezes. The blade is long, carved so it curves at two different points. His right cheek is washed in subtle purple glow, and in his peripheral he can just make out an insignia akin to some kind of Japanese script engraved near the hilt.

He stands as still as he can for a decent minute before he realises the alien hasn’t killed him yet. Kevin’s both mystified and unnerved. The alien, presumably the pilot, has the stealth and skill to sneak up on him but has some reason to keep him alive. But he doesn’t make any further moves beside holding the sword against his neck, and so Kevin decides he might as well introduce himself.

He swallows, heart hammering. “Hi,” he whispers. When the sword doesn’t shift, Kevin asks, “I…I just came to see if you’re okay.”

What a ridiculous thing to say. This is why he doesn’t socialise. It’s awkward. Bothersome. Embarrassing. And that’s with his own people – how on earth does he expect to convince this alien he means no harm when he can’t even comfortably hold a conversation about work and weather with his colleagues?

After what is apparently a moment’s consideration, the alien turns the sword so that the flat of the glowing blade is against Kevin’s cheek. There’s a slight pressure put on the blade. The best interpretation Kevin can make is to turn his head as the blade directs him, slowly, steadily, until he’s turning side-on, his face now turned towards the alien.

The alien is nothing more than a silhouette against the brightening moonlit desert, but Kevin’s flashlight catches him in the face. The pilot screws up his face, squinting, but keeps the sword levelled. Hastily, yet at the same time trying to avoid startling him with any sudden movement, Kevin turns his head away and raises a hand to his forehead, switching off the light.

 _I saw the alien’s face_. Kevin’s a little light-headed. He hadn’t expected the pilot to be so humanoid. Then again, what had he been expecting, exactly? Something big and green with massive eyes?

He turns back to face the pilot, fully this time, and Kevin takes in the shape of the silhouette before him. The curves of hips slightly wider than shoulder-width, the shock of hair gathering at the ends to trail down her shoulders...

Kevin's heart skips a beat. The pilot’s undoubtedly _female._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kevin was a little 'light-headed'...hehe. Unintentional pun.


	3. What Went Unnoticed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright - time to get this show (or fic, rather) back on the road! Season 6 was amazing, right? :D The continuation of this story is fairly similar to the backstory we saw in S6E2: Razor's Edge, but it didn't have the scouts in it so I'm kinda glad I hadn't gotten around to writing anymore of this so that I can write them in this AU as well!

She speaks in a language dominated in ‘v’, ‘k’ and ‘z’ sounds, accompanied by ‘n’, ‘ar’, ‘oh’ and ‘th’ sounds. She seems to question him, her tone direct and commanding. But there is a soft quality to her voice that has Kevin convinced that she’s not as harsh as the sounds of the words she speaks.

The entire time she’s talking, the blade never leaves his neck. It’s both annoying and frightening, but Kevin doesn’t know what to do. This lady seems to be telling him something urgent. Or maybe she thinks he’s a threat? Pretty soon he notices how strained her voice is getting and he realises she must be just as unsettled as he is to be in this situation.

Kevin takes a deep breath. With a raised eyebrow, he interrupts her, saying, “I’m sorry. I don’t understand you.”

She breaks off with a frustrated huff. Her eyes give off a subtle glow, but it’s still too dark to read her expression.

_Unless I switch on my headlight. But that’d be the stupidest thing I could ever do, so I guess I’m gonna just have to rely on her tone of voice._

Up on the ridge, the winds whistles between an outcropping of rocks. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up. The alien lady tenses, head snapping sideways. She hisses something and then throws herself at him.

The blast rings out across the canyons.

Kevin lands heavily on his back, paralysed with shock. In a heartbeat, the alien’s rolled off him, braced herself upright on one knee and swung her arm out in front of her, hurling something. Someone on the other side of the wreckage cries out. Kevin’s eyes are wide. He doesn’t even realise the blade’s left her hand until he sees it glint in the moonlight.

“Who was that?” he asks, scrabbling to his feet.

The alien’s already moving to fetch her sword. She doesn’t answer him, doesn’t even turn to acknowledge he’s said anything until her fingers are wrapped around the hilt.

“Pyrak,” she says.

Kevin’s brow creases. He holds his arms outstretched, palms facing upward, hoping to convey his confusion a little more. But more concerning than the language barrier is the weird gait she’s walking with. He frowns, watching as her footsteps back to him become a little more unsteady.

He nods at her feet. “Are you okay?”

The alien scowls at him. Kevin can make out her expression a little better when she’s facing this way. His heart thuds in sudden attraction and his stomach coils in apprehension. There’s not as much conviction in that scowl as he’d have expected of a harsh-toned female, alien or not. When she mutters something under her breath, his worry grows. Then he notices it.

There’s shrapnel sticking out of her side, and on her armour’s a lot darker on one shoulder than it is on the other. Kevin draws in a sharp breath.

_That guy she just killed…he shot her._

Up on the ridge, there’s a whirring of hovercraft propeller and chopping air.

“Kogane! You there?”

The alien lady freezes mid-stride. Her grip on the hilt of her blade tightens. Kevin puts his hands out in front him and desperately tries to reassure her the guy up on the ridge is not here to harm her.

“Shirogane,” he says to the lady. He keeps his voice at a normal volume to begin with; he doesn’t want to frighten her. Then, keeping his eyes on her whilst she studies the dust flying above the ridge, he raises his voice enough to be classified as a shout. “Atsushi! Over here.”

“Kevin? Where are – _shimatta! Uchuujin ga -!”_

He doesn’t have to know Japanese to get that Atsushi’s seen her. Thankfully, Atsushi has the audacity not to come hurtling down the slope towards them.

Alien-lady has her eyes fixed on where Kevin can hear the hoverbike peeking over the ridge. She takes a step forward, then her face twists in pain and she sinks to her knees. There’s only a few more strides remaining between the two of them down here. The second her moan penetrates the hovercraft’s air-chopping, Kevin’s crossing the sand. The blade slips free of her grasp. Kevin’s knees crash into the ground. He has his arms around her before her eyes close.

“Kogane! What’s happening?”

The blast wound only grazed her which is a relief; it’s the shrapnel stuck in her side that’s done the most damage. Just above her right hip, the material of her under armour flight suit is soaked to an even darker black. Ignoring Atsushi’s calls, Kevin tentatively presses two fingers under her chin.

He pauses. Her pulse feels steady, but it’s hard to tell if it’s strong or not in terms of her own physiology. Kevin grimaces. The first aid training he’s had might not be enough, but even so…

“Atsushi!” he yells, waving his hand palm-downwards in beckoning.

Shirogane switches the hovercraft off. He jumps off it and comes skidding down the hillside. Kevin watches his shoulders tense at the sight of the dead guy lying beside the wrecked ship a few metres away.

“How many?” he says, breathless. “Is that person one of the crew, too?”

“Only her.”

Atsushi tilts his head in confusion. “Eh? Then who…?”

“I dunno,” Kevin says. “But he sure ain’t someone this lady wanted hanging around. What’s the story with the Garrison? Did your plan work?”

Atsushi shrugs. “For now, yes. I said I thought I saw the ship crash further down the valley. But that gunshot…”

_Of course. Even if the ship isn’t visible, that blast would’ve rebounded off the canyon walls like a locator beacon._

“Alright,” Kevin murmurs. “Then we’d best be moving.”

“What about her?”

He shifts the alien in his arms so that he can get himself into a crouch. “She’s coming with us. I’m not letting her die out here.” He grabs the blade, now shrunk down to the size of a dagger, then glances down at her feet and back up at Atsushi. “Will you help me?”

Atsushi’s eyes flash in the dim light. “Of course.”

Between the two of them, they get the alien seated on the hovercraft. Atsushi keeps her balanced while Kevin climbs up behind her. Kevin puts his helmet over the alien's head. Giving him a quick tutorial of the craft’s workings and flight tendencies, Atsushi leaves him to it, jumping on his black dirt bike this time and speeding off towards the Garrison. It occurs to Kevin than the Garrison might think something’s up, seeing as Shirogane had ‘just been out flying his hovercraft’ and is now returning on a different vehicle.

_No. I can’t worry about that now. I’ve got a mission._

The swirling air of the hovercraft’s propellers blasts him with cool air. There’s a strange, damp kind of chill clinging to his side. Kevin looks down, already guessing what it is.

There’s blood on his work shirt. He peers over alien-lady’s shoulder. Now that they’re exposed to the light of the risen full moon, he sees the blood-soaked material of her flight suit clearer. The shrapnel doesn’t appear to be lodged deep, but there’s a decent tear through her side and it’s still welling blood.

The hovercraft is finished warming up. The propellers whir.

Kevin hastily strips off his jacket, biting his lip against the cold. He’s aware that he needs to get going, but – seriously, no, he can’t let any dust or sand or dirt get into that wound. She’ll die of blood infection before she dies of blood loss. She’s never been exposed to Earth environment either – he’d bet on that – making her situation even more perilous. He secures the sleeves of the jacket over her hips, against the underside of the shrapnel, and tightens his hold around her torso, hand firm against her abdomen in order to apply some extra pressure to the wound. The alien lady moans.

 _Hopefully Atsushi doesn’t take too long getting that first aid kit from the Garrison,_ he thinks. If it had been his own old rusty dirt bike, the trip across the desert and back would’ve taken too much time. But on a new bike, and with Atsushi’s riding skills…

She may have just held a blade at his throat, but he’s stubbornly determined to see to it that she doesn’t die.

Kevin leans forward, all nerves and adrenaline and grim determination. He gives the throttle an experimental rev. A grin crosses his face as he orientates the hovercraft homeward.

“Hang on!” he shouts in her ear above the noise of the wind, launching the craft down the bank of sand dunes.

They hurtle across the desert, and all Kevin can think of is keeping this bike steady and saving this lady’s life. She may be an extra-terrestrial, but that doesn’t mean anything right now. She’s a person. Up in space, she’s probably got a family, or some community, or some organisation waiting for her to return. It doesn’t exactly cross his mind at the point, the fact that her race could be a race of ruthless, planet destroying aliens that wouldn’t hesitate to destroy Earth if they so wanted to. She doesn’t seem like that kind of person, anyway – she proved that when she saved his life back at the wreckage, twice: once, when she didn’t kill him herself, and again when she shoved him out of the line of fire from that blast.

Kevin’s focused solely on getting him, alien-lady and Shirogane’s prototype hovercraft back to the shack in one piece. That, and willing the female in his arms to _keep living._


	4. Language Barriers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thinking about the relationship between these two (Keith's father and Krolia) just makes my heart all warm. It's so sad that Keith pretty much had to grow up without them, because they would've been (and are) such awesome parents. Those flashbacks in S6E2 had me crying so hard, to the point that even the soundtrack 'I Must Go' has me tearing up at the thought of Krolia leaving her son and the man she loves behind, and Keith's Dad facing raising his kid alone, with him growing up without Krolia in his life and...I'm inwardly crying again. We'll get to that scene a little later on.

Atsushi’s taking a while. Kevin forces himself to stop pacing, to take a deep breath and _calm down._ No matter how hard he tries though, calming down just isn’t happening, not when he’s this anxious.

He doesn’t know what it is that’s making him feel this way, but his concern for the alien-lady is making him nauseous. He’d laid her down in his desert home about an hour ago, dealt to the shrapnel and, after twenty-five long minutes, finally managed to stop the bleeding enough to start on the bandaging. His hands are still shaking with the adrenaline of it. There’d been a lot of blood. A _lot_ of blood. It’s washed off his hands now, and the wound’s all stitched up and dressed, but there’d been a lot of blood and she could’ve very well bled her life out right in front of him and he wouldn’t have been able to do a thing…

Kevin pinches the bridge of his nose. He sniffs, plants his hands on his hips. He crosses the floor again to stand beside her. The words that come to mind explain to him well enough why he’s so distressed.

 _She’s beautiful._  

It’s not even solely that. He’s struck with an immense desire to protect her, to talk with her, to learn about who is she and where she’s come from and what went so wrong that her ship crashed. Kevin wants to know her name. He wants her to live. He wants her to be okay. Even if she wakes up and decides she doesn’t trust him, that it’s a risk she cannot take…

There’s a risk he’s going to have to come to terms with, too: alien-lady’s going to be stuck here on Earth for a while, and if Kevin’s going to be the one to accept responsibility of keeping her safe then he’s going to have to make sure that Atsushi’s well aware of what they’re dealing with, too. It’s not the alien he’s worried about in that regard, it’s the Garrison.

_Shirogane’s already putting himself in the line of fire. It’s not fair that he takes the full weight of it, but we’ll have to be careful we don’t get out stories mixed up or that it sounds like we’re both involved in hiding stuff from the Garrison._

They’re lowly technicians. Two pawns on a chessboard full of knights and queens and castles. They could lose their job, they could be thrown in jail, they could be made to expose all they know…

Kevin watches the alien-lady’s eyelids twitch in the moonlight coming through the window. _I’m going to do everything I can to help you,_ he silently promises. _I want you to be well again. I want to keep you safe. I…if it’s possible, in this strange environment full of strange people and languages, I want to make you feel happy…and somehow…at home._

The moon has shifted above the house, light no longer coming through the window, when Kevin realises that maybe he shouldn’t wait up all night for Atsushi. Getting away from the Garrison this deep into the night is probably too risky anyways and, for the time being, Kevin’s got sufficient enough supplies on hand to tend to his guest.

 _Better hit the hay._ He yawns, scans the desert one last time before closing the door behind him. To be on the safe side, he reaches over the bed and draws the curtains. While it would be more ideal for the alien to wake up with a vague sense of orientation, he doesn’t want to risk someone peering in while he’s asleep and seeing her. The room is pitch-black; he finds the solar-powered lamp, unhooks it from its charging station on the wall and sets it down in the middle of the floor.

Kevin’s exhausted, but far too anxious to sleep. He lies down on the floor, on his side, an arm bent beneath his head and eyes wide open, listening. His ears are strained, trying to pick up any sort of noise outside the walls of the shack. There’s no sound of anything but wind and the infrequent yowling of coyotes. He tries to reassure himself everything’s fine, nobody’s out there, not even Shirogane, but then he starts worrying over the alien again.

He gets up every fifteen to twenty minutes or so to check she’s okay. After an hour or two, he sits on the end of the bed and distracts himself by memorising the way the shadows of the lamplight fall over her face. He wonders if she’s warm enough, grabs a thin blanket for her just in case. Kevin remembers that part of her suit is actually armour. Is she able to rest okay in that? It’s not uncomfortable? But any consideration of taking the armour off for her is quickly dismissed. No, it’d be terrible for her to wake up feeling even more defenceless and exposed when she’s wounded and in the hands of a foreigner.

It gets Kevin thinking of Atsushi’s boy. How hard it must’ve been for him, finding himself uprooted and forced to adapt to a new culture, a new way of speaking, a new scenery aesthetic. His wife, too. Kevin’s heart stirs. If anyone’s going to be able to help him in helping this alien-lady get back on her feet, it’s Atsushi.

The timing of their friendship couldn’t have been better.

 

Sunlight. Kevin jolts awake, a fierce cramp in his neck.

 _Oh no._ Doesn’t he have work today? His heart’s pounding. No, no, he doesn’t. It’s his day off today. It’s fine, he didn’t sleep in, he’s not late for anything. Then his heart plummets.

Alien-lady’s gone.

Kevin inhales sharply. He rolls out of the awkward half-lean he fell asleep in, stumbles to his feet, and spins around, eyes wide. She’s gone. She’s actually gone. Not here at all, gone.

_Calm down, Kogane. Breathe. Breathe. Think._

He runs a hand through his hair. His stomach growls. _She can’t have gone far. Maybe she got hungry and went to look for food?_ Kevin frowns. She wouldn’t like coyotes for breakfast…would she? Her knife’s gone, too, but that’s pretty understandable. Something weird settles over him when he realises he’d slept through it all and the knife hadn’t scathed him. _Well, I guess that counts for something._

The door’s open. Kevin strides outside, glances left and right. No sign of her.

It’s a few hours after sunrise. How long has she been up? How on earth hadn’t he noticed her get up? Of course, it was inevitable that sleep would claim him eventually but… If he finds her lying somewhere with her wound reopened, he’s going to blame himself. If she’s been caught by the Garrison in her wandering about, or if Shirogane decided to betray his trust and take her away –

Cold against his neck. The air behind him shifts. Kevin’s stomach lurches.

It’s her.

He glances over his shoulder, meeting her eyes. Her face appears to be still a little pale and strained, but her eyes are sharp and alert. _This is a precaution,_ he realises. There’s nothing hostile about the way she’s looking at him, regardless of whether or not she’s holding her blade against him. She’s simply being careful, trying to balance out the fact that’s wounded and therefore vulnerable with the clear fact that she’s got a blade and she knows how to use it.

They evaluate each other for a long minute, breathing and blinking. The alien-lady doesn’t drop her fierce gaze, but Kevin can see it in her eyes how weary she is. He hopes his gaze softens like he wants it to.

“It’s all a bit overwhelming for you, isn’t it?” Kevin murmurs. His lips pull in a wry smile. “I hope I’m not making it worse for you?”

She mutters something unintelligible in her own language. Kevin knows she can’t understand him, just like she can’t understand her, but there’s still so much that tone of voice can convey. He learnt that one from observing Atsushi.

He flashes a glance downwards over his shoulder. “How’s your wound?”

Alien-lady’s sword-arm is shaking slightly. Kevin watches her, concerned. She notices him taking in her condition and narrows her eyes, hissing a string of words under her breath. Kevin waits, listening to the sounds. She pauses, then continues, and he realises she’s not hissing at all – she’s ill and she’s rambling. She should be resting but here she is over-exerting herself where the state of her injuries are concerned.

He raises his eyebrows, showing he is unable to understand her. He shakes his head slowly. “I don’t understand you,” he says. He lets his confusion show, forgetting about the blade at his neck and the residual cramp.

After another minute of staring at each other, the alien grimaces, closes her eyes with a sigh and lowers her blade. It transforms before Kevin’s eyes, taking on the shape of an oversized pocket knife. Kevin turns around, in awe, but out of respect he returns his gaze to the alien.

He points to himself. “I am Kevin. Kevin.”

He then gestures with an open hand to her. Before becoming aware of Japanese culture, he pointed at Hanako Shirogane and got a furiously offended glare in return for pointing at her with his index finger. It is rude to point in our culture, Atsushi had kindly informed him. Hanako had been clear about the offense she’d taken. He doesn’t want the same thing to happen between him and the lady before him.

The alien blinks, her expression still tense but the fight in her eyes easing a little. She frowns. “Kevan?”

Close enough. Kevin nods, pointing at himself again. “Kevin.” He gestures to her again.

She replicates his action, pointing to herself the same way Kevin has seen Atsushi do.

“Krolia,” she says.

Though he doesn’t know what kind of names her people have, he recognises the word as a name.

“Crow-leah?”

“Krolia.”

“Krolia?”

She nods.

Kevin offers her a kind smile and bows a little in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you, Krolia.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (11/09) I intend to get back to writing this, but I'm not sure when that'll be. In the meantime, thank you for reading!


End file.
